Mutilate Me, Heart and Soul
by MavisClone
Summary: Betrayal disguises itself in all shapes and sizes. Yet Emily Young never thought she would betray her family; least of all her Leah. Emily/Sam/Leah. One-shot.


A/N: I don't know about you, but personally, I adore the Leah/Sam/Emily dynamic. I'm quite disappointed that Meyer never went into more detail about this situation but I guess that the lack of detail about all three's relationship with each other has given me the freedom to think and write whatever the hell I want about it. I hope you enjoy it and if you have anything to say, within reason, please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight Saga universe or the characters. Stephenie Meyer does. I'm just borrowing a hand full of them for the time being.

* * *

You never expected to betray your family like you did. Especially Leah. _Your_ Leah. The little girl only a year below you, who whenever you'd visit your Aunty and Uncle, would cling to your hand as any awed younger cousin would. Weekends were spent visiting each other, playing with dolls and collecting shells on the beach of La Push. On the rainy days, which were often and usually the norm, endless days would be spent inside drawing whatever subject took your fancy, and eagerly listening to your Uncle Harry repeat tales of the Quileute people and the cold ones, sending shivers down your spine.

When you were older, acting every bit the pre-teen as you could, Leah came to stay often. You two would fit snugly into your sleeping bags, giggling over which popstar you'd rather marry and staying up all night playing truth or dare – in which you would at all costs avoid picking 'dare', and Lee-lee, ever the adventurous one, would attempt to pester you into a dare. However, you being the shy Emily that you were, would simply shake your head stubbornly. But it didn't matter because Leah would pick 'dare' every time. In your own ways, you balanced each other out.

And then the emotional ups and downs of High School arrived. Nothing could've prepared you for the change, and you found yourself drowning in a world of near-adulthood and responsibility. You found it harder to find time to visit Leah, and both of you suffered without your best friend. Somehow, you both found a way to survive, whilst still contacting each other. A healthy portion of your freshman year was spent on the phone to your beloved cousin, talking about school, crushes, first kisses – whatever nonsense popped into your head.

Leah soon was experiencing the terror that was high school, and you had spent the summer before tutoring, handing out plentiful advice and fulfilling your duty as surrogate big sister to her. She listened intently, eyes wide, her usually boisterous persona pushed aside for the time being, letting the apprehension of high school take over in the face of her most trusted cousin – _you_.

As the years past, you fell out, made up, and fell out again with various friends. Your interest in boys was flighty, like a lot of other girls your age – whoever made the final cut and held your interest for long enough, never stayed around for more than a few months. Your priorities were more set on enjoying your rapidly-passing teenage years, and making time for the constant in your life; Leah, the strong, confident cousin and best friend.

As soon as you passed your driving test, you raced to La Push, excitably pushing your cousin towards your car in order to show your skills and abuse the freedom to drive the full two miles to the nearest store to buy ice cream and tons of chocolate. It was on this first drive of many Leah tells you about Sam. Nearly seventeen, her eyes light up with more emotion than you've ever seen there before, and you know that your little Leah is falling fast for this boy, who seems too good to be true. You gabble animatedly, dutifully asking all the right questions; when did he ask her out? How was there first kiss? How long had they been dating?

She answers all the questions, beaming as she does so, and you feel pang somewhere in your chest. There is a disappointment that you have not been in love first, and realise that soon, Leah will be experiencing things before you; love, sex, caring for one person unconditionally – in a different way that you love Leah. You realise you are jealous, and you're ashamed of feeling so, wishing that the only emotion you felt was happiness for your cousin. You swallow, and beam back at her, driving onwards as she chatters on.

Months later you, your parents, your sister and her husband and child are invited to a family gathering in La Push. Leah phones the night you are invited, imploring that you _must_ meet Sam. The tone of her voice registers with something in your mind – it's the same as when your parents talk of each other, and you hope with all your heart Leah is not putting too much hope into her relationship. You don't want your baby cousin hurt.

For some reason all the way from your home, the Makah reservation, to La Push, you fidget in the car. Your father parks the car along the already busy street – your Auntie Sue must have invited more 'family' than she originally intended – and as you wait nervously for the front door to swing open you have the strangest sensation that you should turn back. However, before you can begin to formulate a plan of escape, the door whips back and there is Leah, rushing forward to envelope you in an embrace, her beaming smile making her just that much more heart-breakingly beautiful.

"Emily!" she almost shrieks, "What took you so long to get here? Get in, get in!"

She pulls you inside roughly, and you joke that soon your arm would get detached and she'd just keep on running off with it. You're reintroduced to family members you've not seen since the start of high school, and others you could have sworn you've never met before – these are the ones who insist on telling you anecdotes of the last time they saw you, and you still haven't the faintest clue who they are.

"My, Emily! Aren't you so grown up now," One exceptionally elderly 'auntie' exclaims. "So beautiful. I bet you've caught the eye of a fair few suitors, hmm?" The auntie winks coyly and you find yourself grimacing in horror on the inside. Thankfully, Leah chooses this time to reappear and drag you into the kitchen.

"Come _on, _Emmy! You still haven't seen Sam yet! He'll think you're avoiding him!" Her laugh reverberates around the room and you can't help but smile widely at her. Sam is in the corner of the kitchen, quietly sipping at his drink and seemingly trying to be inconspicuous. You find it amusing as there is no way this six-foot-something eighteen year old could be missable at all.

The huge teenage boy looks up at your laugh and blushes wildly. Leah skips over to him and you feel like a third wheel as they share a kiss. And then it ends and it takes a moment for Leah to gather her bearings, but once she does, you're thrust into an endless conversation with her and Sam. You find out that Sam is a year older than Leah – a couple of months younger than yourself – and that he hopes to go to college somewhere near home next year, to look after his mother better.

You find conversing with the couple so easy and enjoyable, that you almost pout when your father says it is time to drive home. Leah insists you must all get together again, and you find yourself eagerly agreeing. From then on, weekends are spent in La Push, just like when you were little with the exception of Sam and the occasional stranger to you who Leah would desperately be trying to set you up with.

Before you know it, summer has crashed down upon you. You are out in the garden lounging on the lawn, enjoying the first moments of peace you've had in several weeks after telling your parents that you would _not_ be attending college. Since your heavily-pregnant sister moved out to live with her husband, you have had to fight your battles single-handed. For some reason, you didn't mind this as much as you might have – in fact, you enjoyed taking responsibility for your life's decisions, and revelled in the chance to be rebellious.

You hear the shrill ring of the phone from within the house and almost instantly your mother is towering over you, phone in hand, thrusts it into your palm, and stalks back into the building. You hold the receiver to your ear, already knowing who is at the end of the line.

"What's up, Lee-lee?" You ask smiling.

"Hey, Emmy." Her voice replies, flat.

Sitting up on the coarse grass, you demand to know what's troubling her. Leah talks on the phone for the better part of an hour, reciting to you about Sam's unusual behaviour. She explains he's been edgy with her for about a month, forever disappearing for hours, sometimes even days at a time. She says, the pitch of her voice heightening as if she is battling to urge to sob, that at the beginning he went missing for two weeks. None of the elders seemed to be concerned about his absence, which infuriated her more.

"I don't know what to think anymore, Em," she admits. "I hardly see him. When I do, he's exhausted beyond belief. His entire attitude has changed." I can hear her breath deeply at the end of the line. "I don't think he's my Sam anymore."

Your heart breaks at this, and you wish you could've protected her from this. You too had noticed Sam's absence in the last couple of weeks, but you originally, perhaps naively, thought that Sam was merely giving you and Leah space to hang out privately – just the girls.

You visit Leah almost immediately. Splayed across her bed in a haphazard fashion, she's a mess of sweatpants and scraggly hair. You decide to do the best you can as the surrogate sister, knowing that pity would only be insulting to her.

"You look like shit." You remark. She merely grunts from her position on the furniture, not bothering to look up. You sigh. Leah was going to be more difficult than you had the patience for.

"Come on, _up_!" You pull her legs off the bed and she shrieks as she tumbles onto the floor. "No point feeling sorry for yourself, baby cousin."

She wails in response. She says that was _exactly_ what she planned on doing.

You convince her to shower and put on a pair of jeans. You fix her hair, style her make up as if she were attending prom rather than sitting at home with her elder cousin, and even chatter about nothing in particular as to keep her mind off the 'S' word.

The latter didn't last for long. Whilst exchanging details of Rebecca Black's recent engagement, you and Leah hear the murmured voices of Auntie Sue and Sam being exchanged, and soon the gentle thudding of someone running up the stairs – though with much more grace than anyone you have ever witnessed.

You gasp as Sam enters Leah's bedroom. Not only had his body changed – for he had never seemed so athletic just a month or two back – but the way he held his body was more upright and proud. And his face held a more mature essence to it, as if last year that dull reddening on his cheeks had never happened.

"Leah," He breaths, his gaze on her, "I was hoping you-". He stands stationary in the small space between the door and the bed. His gaze has been averted to your face, and he seems fixated with staring at you. Your eyes, in particular. This doesn't go unnoticed by you, nor by Leah.

"What do you want Sam?" She demands, anger leaking into her voice. You panic slightly, and you almost exclaim, 'Why are you being so harsh?'. But of course, never the one to question someone's actions, especially your family's, you don't.

Sam is sucked out of his reverie, seeming stunned that Leah is present. Panic invades his facial expression, and he utters, "N-no!" as his body jerks slightly. He sprints from the room, putting as much distance between him and Leah and yourself as possible, and disappears from the house and Leah's road.

Once he is gone, Leah is reserved and unspeaking. You make your excuses and begin the silent drive back with the most horrifying clenching at your chest. You do not sleep that night. Through your insomnia, you think only of the radically changed man who you fear has put this horrible sensation within you.

Leah does not phone. She doesn't email. She certainly does not visit you. This inflames your sleeplessness and you spend the endless nights considering what you will say to her the next time you happen to see each other, and staring out of your window to sometimes see the movement of a gigantic black object prowling in the darkness.

It is from your father that you learn Leah and her boyfriend of over a year have spilt; two weeks after your last visit to La Push. Guilt overrides all of your emotions, though you have no clue as to why. You attempt to ring your cousin, but it is your Uncle Harry who speaks down the receiver.

He sighs sorrowfully, and you get the inclination he knows more than a normal father would in this situation. "She – she's not in the best place right now," he sighs again, and you can picture him rubbing his temples at that exact moment. "Call back in a few weeks. I'm sorry, Em." He says, with sincerity. The line goes dead.

You want to cry so badly; you don't know why you're being pushed away, and you feel so responsible for Leah's pain right now. It _kills_ you inside.

June passes you without much notice and you are thrust into July. This month bring with it the arrival of your second niece, Claire. In the delivery room, after the drama of the birth, you help your oldest niece hold her newborn sister. You show her to lean Claire's head on her little elbow and to secure her arms around her body. You watch as the three year old sister holds her baby sibling, and you don't think anything could be more perfect.

Uncle Harry and Auntie Sue visit, as well as Seth, just thirteen, who backs into the corner of the small crowd that has formed around Claire, and shuffles his feet uncomfortably. There's a void of space beside him, which should hold the image of Leah.

That afternoon, home alone, you flop exhausted on the couch and doze off in front of the television. A loud, powerful knock coming from your front door startles and wakes you, and you hastily comb your hair with your fingers before wrenching the door open.

The great hulking figure of Sam dominates the doorway, a look of determination upon his face.

"Emily," he breaths your name. The affection in his voice shocks you, but you recover soon enough to interrogate him.

"What are you doing here, Sam?"

His face drops slightly at your annoyed tone. "I came to congratulate you. Is it your brother's second child now?"

You soften slightly at the mention of your niece. "Yes; her name's Claire," You smile to yourself. "How did you find out?" You question.

"Harry Clearwater told me."

Uncle Harry? You wonder why on earth they would have contacted each other within the past few days, weeks even, but before you can he starts speaking again.

"Actually I was hoping to have a word with you too, if that's okay?" You shrug.

"Are you going to tell me why my cousin has been avoiding me for almost a month now?" You say, stern.

Sam grimaces. "Yes. That _is_ part of it. But please, Emily, come with me a second." He starts walking towards the woods with surround the reservation.

"Why in there?" You panic slightly. "Why can't you just talk to me here?" You point to your cosy home, and unconsciously shuffle further into it.

He struggles with his words. "Please just- you need to come with me. I have to show you something for what I'm about to tell you to make sense." His eyes plead with you and you find yourself walking towards him a step behind as he leads you into the growth of trees and wild.

He keeps walking, farther than you've ever dared to go into the woods and stops dead at what seems a certain spot to him.

Sam looks back at you. Feeling scrutinised under his gaze, you hop from foot to foot, noticing with horror that you neglected to put on shoes. A blush travels high up your cheeks and Sam smiles slightly.

"I guess, I should start from the very beginning," he says. You bite your lip as you are remembered of the musical you and Leah watch repeatedly, and chastise yourself for being so immature in a serious situation.

"You know the legends of old? About the Quileute descending from wolves?" You nod. "They're true, Emily. All of the tales are true."

You fight off a laugh. "Very funny, Sam. If you've just brought me out here to repeat nonsense then-"

"It's true!" he almost bellows. "My God, I wish it weren't. You have no idea, Emily, how much I despise it." He shakes slightly and he pauses a moment to control himself. "Every time a cold one, a _vampire_, moves into town, the gene that is passed down through some Quileutes reacts, and a fever sets in. They turn into wolves and they're meant to eradicate any threat to the reservation and its people – protect them from vampires."

You wrap your arms around you self, but your eyes remain level with Sam's, willing him to continue.

He sighs deeply. "I-I'm a wolf, Emily."

You shake your head in disbelief. "Don't be stupid, Sam."

He tremors again. "I'm not being stupid!" He shouts. He stalks towards you, grips your wrist and presses your hand against his bare chest. "Feel that? One hundred and eighty fucking degrees! You think I'd still be alive if I was normal?"

"You're scaring me." You whisper. He immediately drops your hand and returns to his position several feet away from you. You both look at each other in silence, until you dare to say, "If this is true. Let's say all the myths are true, and that you _are_ a wo…what you say you are – what does that have to do with you breaking up with Leah?"

Sam rubs his temples, looking far beyond his years in that moment. "There are other legends. Have you ever heard the one of the third wife?"

I nodded, remembering Uncle Harry telling that one fewer than the others as my mother would always give him a disapproving glare when he did.

"That connection between her and Taha Aki is what Quileutes call 'imprinting'. It's essentially an unbreakable bond between a wolf and his mate that allows them to best pass on the gene for more wolves. But," he explains, his eyes almost desperately trying to convey something to me on their own. "It's so much more than that. It's the urge to protect that mate under all costs. You're not able to love anyone in that way, not after you see _her_. She's your soul mate. I found that it's allowed me to love more deeply than I could have ever imagined." His face pleads with you. "Emily, the day I went to visit Leah, and you were there, I connected with you. You're my imprint."

You stumble backwards a few paces. "No!" You almost scream. "I don't want it! You love Leah!"

The hurt that flashes across your face sends a striking pain through your chest. "No, I don't. Not anymore. I can't."

"Take it back! Take it back, Sam!" You cry, tears streaming. "She's my best friend! She loves you _so_ much – I can't do that."

He shakes in anger. "That's irrelevant now! I have no power over it!"

Before you know it you're charging to him, palm stretched out and swing it across his face. Sam's cheek stings red and you nurse your hand in the other. "Bastard! How _dare _you say my cousin is irrelevant! You're a cheat. As if you were ever good enough for her, you no-good, fucking _monster_-"

A growl punctures the air and pain explodes in the right side of your body. Your clothes are soaked instantly in blood; the warm liquid oozing from gashes every where. You're flung fourteen, fifteen feet across the ground and thud onto the earthen floor. It hurts to scream, and you no longer have the energy. Immobile, your head faces the canopy of the trees and raindrops begin to drop onto your face, soothing it a little.

Your uninjured hand leaves the ground and is embraced by boiling temperature. You hear Sam crying your name, noticing the raindrops are tears pouring from his beautifully despairing face before you slip peacefully into unconsciousness.

You find hospital suffocating, and you are glad you were unconscious for the most part of your stay there. The stark whiteness of its walls blinds your sensitive eyes; you tell you mother the pungent smell of bleach and disinfectant makes you sick. Sam visits every day, bringing with him more and more collections of beautifully smelling flowers which counter that of the room you are prisoner in. As usual, his hands gravitate towards yours, and you allow him to hold you until he leaves.

From the first day you woke up, Sam has been repeating his apology over and over; the sorrow in his eyes and the disgust for himself in his eyes is hard to ignore. At first, you were glad that he was suffering, that he forced himself to look at your still, lifeless body day after day as you swam in and out of consciousness. But then, when you regained the memories of what happened, and the more Sam visited you felt the urge to hold his hand.

You, Emily Young, had never condemned anyone in your life, and attempting to start that now with the one person who was allegedly your soul mate seemed not only illogical, but you discovered it hurt both of you to hate him.

After your release from hospital you seem to spend all your time with no one but Sam. You are not quite sure when you become an item, but you do know that the first time _you_ reach out to hold his hand – _you_ initiate the touch – that you have forgiven him for everything, despite the nagging will to hurt him, like he did you and Leah, at the back of your mind. You are so practised in the art of brushing this feeling away; eventually you do not notice it at all.

Time passes, and the wounds heal; leaving jagged scars over half of your body. You relocate to La Push, renting a small house with Sam and find yourself a job that tides you both over, with help from the Elders. Tending to the pack is almost a full time job, but you love it. Finally after the absence of Leah, the incident with Sam and the inner turmoil of whether or not to accept your imprint, you begin to feel like yourself again.

But now, Leah has joined the pack. Leah is in your kitchen, begrudgingly eating your food, avoiding looking at your face and you just now that her mind is going over and over how you betrayed her.

At one campfire, when Billy has the pack captivated when telling the story of Taha Aki and the Third Wife, she looks over the blazing roar of the flames, and stares deep into your eyes. For those few seconds she tells you everything without uttering a word; _You did this. You stole him. My cousin, the cheap whore. You have sold your soul._

In that moment, a familiar feeling rages through your body, one that you have been battling down since that day in Leah's room when your and the new Sam's eyes first met. You wish this had never happened. You despise what these legends have brought you to do. The realisation of your betrayal pushes you to the brink until you almost suffocate in the guilt.

Then a fiery hand brushes your own, and you now gaze intently into Sam's eyes. They sparkle in delight and he smiles wide, making you wonder whether he has noticed the burning stare of the scorned young woman across the fire, or whether he is ignoring her. You wonder how he copes with the weight of the betrayal you have both committed; whether he really cares that Leah is now the only one unhappy. And alone.

With one last look at your beautiful cousin, you swallow the bile rising in your throat. You ignore the bead of sweat dripping from your face and the hitch in your gut. You go through your ritual of looking at your terrible scars; a daily reminder of how you ripped your family, and your friends, apart. You inwardly curse yourself and praying to God for redemption, and sanity.

You turn to Sam, beaming because of the giddy effect he has on you and join in the boisterous chatter that has now erupted around the fire. You watch Leah out of the corner of your eye, sulking alone and unmoving far away from the rest of the group.

As always you sigh, and wait. Wait for the day that Leah will join the rest of you. Wait for the day Leah will forgive you of your sins towards her. Wait for the day she will accept that you and Sam are together forever. But most of all, you wait for the day that this strong, beautiful woman will once again be your favourite cousin; your little Lee-lee.


End file.
